STONE & ASH

soul is sequestered.
hanging fruit, in a forest of giants
praying for atonement or holy alliance
molding my bones. soul seller solely uncensored
sling to be highest bidder, sold to goliath
liquor bottle pried in my fingers. corroded and weathered
like sewing a sweater, stitching holes i’m developing
alone in his centerpiece, exhausted, but smiling
phone ringing. moment of silence
calloused fingers, punched the rotary dialing
show me a sign, show me some messages
but show me something,
worth more than im fretting for

we’re watching canonized poetry as it slowly develops
patternized moments wove into metaphors

the samurai shonin with his robe and umbrella

and a massive sized sword in his holster is held up

romanticizing loneliness.
tethered alignment in a saturn sky orbiting
were all enraptured to die
for worse, or for better
choke in the sandsurge that envelops the earth
lying in dirt. drenched in his own recollections
pirating strongholds, storm in depression
hurricane in a teacup,

hold the blade in my teeth
for someone so verbose i hardly say what i mean
that’s what’ you’d say to me.
footsteps loud, like a mouse, but barely a peep
i would hear your silence as gaping a scream

  • allow me to breathe, as normalcy sorts in
    don’t know if I’m abnormal, or still hopelessly mourning
  • grief is a black mass that i’m slowly growing around
  • soundproof my coffin of screams before you lower me down
  • apex predator in a matrix. my cage is lead proof
    still have dreams of your tombstone i never payed respects too
    every morning at three, pray at your feet. and rest for awhile
    heard nothing but echoes. tense moment denial
  • the depth of the situation, brought me closer to ire

    stone & ashes, your ghost and some fire
    heads closed in. like a labyrinth threshold.
    side-thorn, blood shot. gigawattage electrode
    eyes sore, daily. i ask is there anything left to fight for?
    life is a cuckoos nest beginning to look like psych wards

    every fiber of my being – nylon nervous system sidewalks
    bicep tendon, symbolism. combination ice cold
    thromboembolism. narcissism. it’s hard to paint the right tones
    existentialist grave digger. ghost hunter. face filter
    illiterate author.
    conspiracy factist. fascist stuck in francisco ascaso
    conjecture gets harder. the lesser the gaudier
    the lesson: contemporary. your protector. your guardian.
    preparation delirium. procrastination is lazy
    injection paste into serum. like they did to blacks in the 80s
    reincarnations a bitch. your face in the stitches you gave me

    scars are stark reminders of how efficient my oain is
    perturbed with no purpose, let’s give it a pause
    and stop for awhile, the resentment is awful
    statuette in a costume, baphomet with a cross
    sometimes thinking I’m crazy. always thinking I’m lost
    seeking fulfilling things- small cause, far from colossus
    never thinking I’m right. confused with humility

    Published by Cristian Leonardo

    Cristian's Cafe. This is my cafe, we have Wi-Fi, but it's not very good. Poetry, Podcasts, Research Articles, Open Mic, Comedy, Art. An entire website dedicated to my many forms of expression and happiness.

    Comments, suggestions, or anything that comes to your mind when you read this